


Blackreach

by SilverWolfPup



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Blackreach, Gen, Purple Prose, Scenery Appreciation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-19
Updated: 2015-11-19
Packaged: 2018-05-02 09:38:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5243516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverWolfPup/pseuds/SilverWolfPup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Dragonborn appreciates the scenery in Blackreach.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blackreach

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, I think Blackreach is pretty, and I think I describe things nicely enough you might like to read it. I have no idea how to tag something like this, though, so... help with that'd be nice.
> 
> I hope you like it!

She hadn't expected what she found down there.

  
She'd been in dwarven ruins before. The architecture was always interesting, the machinery was _amazing_ and utterly impossible. But after the utter fascination she'd felt the first time... well, the ruins were kind of a bore.

  
But not Blackreach. Oh, no, Blackreach wasn't boring. She'd never seen its like. And oh, she wouldn't be surprised if Blackreach was entirely unique.

  
_Glowing mushrooms._ You haven't seen glowing mushrooms until you've seen _these_.

  
She looked up, and above her head was darkness, pure darkness. Even darkest midnight shone with stars, but there was no light emanating from the rock above her head, nothing to show her how far the earth would fall to crush her. There was no light up there. But reaching up with yearning hands, they _gleamed_ dark aquamarine. _Mushrooms_ , a word of ignorance; they were as alike to mushrooms as the domestic cat to a mountain cougar. As large as trees, larger, graceful and sleek how mushrooms weren't, shouldn't be, curving lovely whiskers growing from the edges of their heads, winding down like they were jellyfish. Nothing but shadows and blackness beneath the Earth, and no doubt in the pitiless sun their grace and beauty would be clumsy, nothing. But here, oh, here...

  
The shadows they were had form, framed by light bioluminiscence, the light-blue shine mysterious, surreal, graceful. She could sit here forever, just watching and exploring this graceful beauty traced with dreams. She could.

  
But there was danger here, danger she pitied. Blind to the beauty of their surroundings, the Falmer saw through sound and touch. She pitied the snow elves.

  
They lived in the most beautiful place in the world, and could see nothing of it.

 

 


End file.
